washout

Routes #3 & 4 are both around 45 minutes' duration, which I think is as good as it's going to get. Also I'd better get used to refilling the petrol tank every five days. Another New Office drawback: it's impossible to find a quiet corner in which to be visited by the muse.

Venture outdoors, and a dozen nicotine addicts descend on your table wanting to be sociable. While attempting to occupy one of the glass-fronted boxes which management are pleased to call 'boardrooms', we were turfed out by people who had legitimately booked a meeting in there. We then dragged some chairs to a far-off swampy area of the garden which seemed promising until the sprinkler system was switched on.

The MAM has also attached himself to the brainstorming party which has compounded my discomfort. He constantly spouts utter crap, never shutting up to allow a moment's thought & reflection.

Oh, and the mole has been at work again. An emergency staff meeting was called today to counteract yet another damaging article about the company, this time on the front page of the newspaper. I now see parallels with the film 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy' which I watched last night. This saga is equally slow-moving and tedious. Like the headquarters of the Secret Service circa 1973, our offices are staffed with unattractive individuals and permanently shrouded in a haze of cigarette smoke. And nobody really knows what's going on.